


The Hours We Don't Sleep

by Kara_Sevda



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Implied/Referenced Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:06:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4828544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kara_Sevda/pseuds/Kara_Sevda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kougami Shinya and Tsunemori Akane do not meet in the same profession. (Pre-season 1 AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

He wondered why he’d agreed to come here. Sasayama had said something of paradise to be found within these rose-tinted walls. Cigarette ash smeared on his sleeve, damp spots of spilled champagne on his slacks. Kougami lifted one hand from the sticky cushioned seat, wishing for cleaner pillows on which to rest his weighted limbs. Dreamed for a second of the starched sheets of hospital beds.

-

She would never have to come back here. Rain-damp and a little jittery from the polarized air that warned of storm, Tsunemori marched past those familiar doors flanked by two ladies who opened their carmine-lipped mouths to sing out greetings. Their song stopped abruptly upon recognizing her. Twin looks of pointed appraisal of her dress, arched eyebrows arching even more at the lack of pink. She drew herself up straighter and demanded (asked, in reality) to see mama-san.

-

The mirrored panels of the door shifted, kaleidoscopic to his inebriated vision, and Kougami still had enough alertness in him to lurch upright. A hunter’s latent instincts. Sensitive to any movement that sent blades of field grass trembling. Projected light, cut into the same shapes as the crystal facets of the gaudy chandelier above them, curved the darkness of the corridor away to reveal a girl’s face. A rather kitten-like visage. Rounded cheeks, pointed chin, eyes swimming with the same shade as the cognac in his glass.

-

Oh. This was definitely the wrong door. Three men. One half-claimed by sleep on the couches, spectacles close to slipping off the bridge of his nose. One waggling his eyebrows and patting the space next to him. And the third...if the street scanners were to manifest a human form, she imagined the result would be a face like his. Bowing hastily and murmuring apologies, Tsunemori backed hurriedly out of the room.

-

The hostess pressed against Kougami’s left shoulder seemed suddenly insatiable in thirst. As the door clicked shut, she downed her drink. Then, reached over, plucked his as well to drain to the bottom between disgruntled mutterings. “There she goes. Miss powder-puke blue. Always acting like no one’s worth an hour of her time. Unless you’re in parliament that is. Or on a corporate executive board.” Her lacquered fingers slapped at the button to order more, heedless of Sasayama’s throat-strangled noises of panic.

-

Her foot tapped a nervous rhythm on the floor, despite the pinch of her heels. Tsunemori would’ve preferred more sensible shoes, especially in the rain, but she’d wanted to make a solid impression during the interview tonight, informal as it was. And now, in the aftermath, she supposed that every little detail could have played a deciding factor. All that remained was to tell mama-san that she was leaving, for good. Better establishment, better pay. Enough to take care of Gran. The sound of another’s tread in the hallway. It was one of the bureau officers from earlier. Frowning, she skirted further into the alcove’s shadows. She hadn’t been bothered by one for so long. Not with a hue as clear as hers.

-

Lost en route to the men’s washroom, Kougami narrowed his eyes at the petite figure at the other end of the hallway. The inadvertent interloper from earlier. She looked up as he approached and finally acknowledged him with, “Inspector.” 

Kougami glanced down at himself. Black suit, absent of insignia. Those who bothered to look underneath the surface, who could derive meaning from examining a little closer, had always seemed compelling to him. “Why do you think I’m an inspector?”

-

She thought he would come across as more intimidating when closer in person, but the tenor of his voice was assuaged by genuine curiosity, as if he knew just the right questions to ask in getting answers.

“You came out of that room unaccompanied,” Tsunemori responded and then added after a pause, “I’ve met lenient inspectors of course, who don’t keep tabs on their enforcers at all times, but there’s also this -”

-

She held up one hand, slowly turning her wrist, and Kougami understood her meaning as a thin, silver bangle slid down her arm. 

“Very few people wear the kind of communication terminal you have. But yours is also different from the one your friend was wearing. He seemed to be enjoying himself much more than you or the mister with glasses.”

A huff of amusement escaped him. So much for thinking that they had been discreet in coming here. Sasayama had assured them that regardless of whatever debauchery ensued, no one would link their late-hour visit to shame on the bureau. “Anything else I should be aware of?”

-

Distractedly, Tsunemori tucked a few strands of her hair, still clinging moistly together like wetted threads, behind her ear. “It was raining as I got here. It’s not a busy night, and one of the cars of the few outside looked plainclothes at first, but if you stared long enough, you could see the holo flickering. I’d put in a request for better tech if I were you.”

He definitely didn’t look intimidating anymore. Not when he was smiling like that. 

Except then, he opened his mouth and said -

-

“You’re very perceptive,” Kougami told her. “For a -”

“Hostess?” No longer doe-eyed soft, the glint of those large, dark eyes challenged.  “Or were you going to call me something else? We’re paid for good conversation you should know.”

Words stalled in Kougami’s throat as he recalled why Sasayama had so graciously guided them here in the first place. Apparently, the enforcer thought Gino and he were long overdue for an introduction to the world of adult socialization skills. “No, I was just going to say, ordinary citizen.” He tugged at his shirt collar, pulling as if that would usher forth some cool air. “Really? Back there was not exactly what I consider to be good conversation.”

The girl looked hardly appeased. “Check your bill for the night, and maybe you’ll reevaluate.”

The door of her alcove opened, for her and her alone, leaving Kougami in the pink-saturated hallways to wander back.

**  
**

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Lean closer. Light his cigarette. Act interested but not overly so. The instructions echoed through Tsunemori’s head as she subdued the urge to wrinkle her nose and flap her hand at the smoke wafting from her client’s mouth. Mr. Obara, a pharmaceutical company chairman. Her third blue-chip engagement this week. She was still surprised that anyone asked for her at all.

-

“Just stay in the car,” Sasayama told him. “I got this.” For a moment, Kougami was inclined to acquiesce. They’d driven here for a simple enough task. Ask a few questions, collect a few names. Then, he recalled how Sasayama had behaved the last time they’d hung around this district. Remembered how Sasayama tended to behave around women in general. With a sigh, he unfastened his seatbelt as well.

-

“Lemme make this clear,” the manager had told her, one hand gripping her chin in appraisement with an underlayer of delicate menace. “Once upon a time, our guests wouldn’t have come here for a mousy little thing like you. Times have changed though. Now, they ask to be served by the purest, clearest-hued hostess we have on the menu. So if you want job stability here, I suggest you keep that darling head of yours free of any bad thoughts, hmm?”

-

Of course, asking questions in this part of town never turned out to be all that easy. The lobby of the club appeared surprisingly tasteful, clearly distancing itself from the likes of Pink Paradise which Sasayama had brought them to. Across the polished surface of the reception desk, the manager smiled condescendingly at their brandished badges. “Sorry, detectives, we’re very protective of our guests’ privacy here.”

-

Pouring the last of the vintage, Tsunemori darted a glance at Mr. Obara’s wristwatch. One-of-a-kind, he’d boasted to her. Not the digital standard that most people wore these days. A real timepiece, mounted with tourbillon discs that made the minute hand a little harder to find. Their hour was nearly finished.  

“Just talking to you clears my mind,” he imparted to her. “Makes me feel like my hue is clearer.” A hitch in his words, a hand on her knee. “I’d like more time to know you better.”

Some of the hosts said yes to this part, she knew.

Management discouraged it though. “Say no, you have another engagement. Say no several times. Until they think the price is almost beyond their means. Until they are almost begging to pay it.”

-

As usual, Sasayama lost patience first. Pushed the manager aside to look at the computer monitor himself. Scrolled past the names, ignoring the sputters of indignation behind him. Clicked on a short clip of video footage to confirm. “Yo, come look at this, Kou. We may have found our man. Or at least, a girl who knows him.”

The manager scoffed. “And what makes you two think that you’re going to talk to her for free?”

Cracking his knuckles, index first, then the middle, Sasayama said, “You know, I think I’m getting real tired of you talking at all.” 

Kougami stepped forward, held up his hand. “Five minutes. Just a brief chat with her, and we’re out of your way.”

-

She was rolling her tights down her legs when the dressing room door opened forcefully, startling her with its impact against the wall.  

“- no need for such a dramatic entrance. You want the manager to come back here and throw us out?”

“Aww Kou, you’re no fun,” drawled the man who entered first. Tawny hair. Vaguely familiar. His brows knotted as he scanned the room, smoothed as he settled his eyes on her.

Tsunemori stared back. Her gaze flickered between them and the door plaque where it read, ‘staff only’.

-

“I didn’t realize you also work a night shift, Inspector.” Steadily voiced, with just a hint of bravado.

So she remembered him. Her mouth was less of a kitten’s soft moue this time. More unevenly reddened. A tissue with dabbed-off lipstick and wine on the vanity table.

Sheepish as he was reminded of his less sober encounter with that direct brown gaze, Kougami kept his expression impassive as he strode towards her, bringing up a facial snapshot on the terminal she’d observed around his wrist last time.

“As you can probably attest to, I’m not that charming over drinks,” he said briskly. “We’re just asking around if anyone has information on this man. He’s been sighted on the premises.”

-

Tsunemori studied the photo carefully, a ricochet of recognition thrumming through her. What was the protocol though? All sorts of high-profile figures visited this establishment: politicians from the lower and upper houses, managing directors from various industries, entertainers from both the in-flesh and CommuField worlds. Accordingly, when confronted by outsiders, most employees practiced an adaptable form of discretion blended with convenient bouts of amnesia.

“May I ask why you’re looking for him?”

-

She didn’t trust him, Kougami sensed. Not yet. But she was seeking for reasons why and where she should place her trust. He could work with that. Could persuade her that he wasn’t here to coerce or trick her. Could frame the situation in a way that clearly presented mutual benefits.

At headquarters though, the higher-ups always firmly instructed, “To the utmost extent possible, avoid discussing cases with civilians. No need to excite or distress their imaginations.”

-

“Miss, I would tell you, but the reasons are related to a crime disturbing to most sensibilities.”

She felt the corners of her mouth twitching with annoyance. A whole day of patronizing attitudes. Her right hand extended towards the mirror, flashed by a motion detector that sent a trellis of blue lines blooming across the glass. A cymatic scanner. “I assure you, I can manage my own psycho-pass.”

-

Huh. She really had a mouth on her, didn’t she? In his peripheral vision, Kougami spotted Sasayama fighting back a laugh, converting the sound to a poorly disguised cough instead.

“Okay. Well, a young woman, who worked at a few different clubs in this area, went missing a while back. Yesterday, in the early morning, we received a report of an unusual...exhibit in a public park. It was her remains. Mounted in a grotesque display. Our analysts are still working on how the organic matter was preserved, but there aren’t many individuals around with access to the types of chemicals that were used. We have reason to believe that this man may be a member of that limited group.”

-

A shivering chill washed over her. What kind of monster - ? She looked at the photo again. Sure, Mr. Tsuruoka had elements of strangeness to his character, but in this business, all of the girls had stories about eccentric clients. Maaya had a regular who lavished tips to lick her fingers. Nazuka was chortling recently about a guy who wanted to call her “imouto”.

“Yes, I’ve seen him before. He came to one of Obara Pharmaceutical's corporate parties. I don’t think it’s likely that he would come here again on his own though. He told us he was a researcher.”

-

Behind him, Sasayama let out a low whistle. “Yup, I’d say this place is a little out of his price range.”

She was trembling, Kougami noticed. A sideway glance at the mirror informed him of a spike in her stress levels. A sharp rise. Followed by a rapid descent. Her hue reading was still within the chromatic range of temperate blues, not a shade darker than cornflower. “Thank you,” he said to her quietly, placing a card on the table. “I don’t want you to worry over this, but if, just if, he ever does come by again, could you contact me at this number immediately? For the safety of everyone in this building?”

-

Her bowed head nodding a brief jerk of agreement, Tsunemori took the card. Caught sight of her own pale face in the mirror as she turned to store it in her purse.

“Wait!”

-

A tug on his sleeve. The girl retracted her hand as if she’d overstepped some great boundary. “When I call you, you’re going to talk to him first, right? To make sure you have the right guy?”

Over his shoulder, Kougami traded a look with Sasayama. “Yes, of course.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Naive or adventurous to come this far out on an engagement? Her cheek pressed against the window glass, Tsunemori tried to admire the late autumn foliage coloring her view on either side, but her dappled reflection painted her trepidation back at her. Brows sloping closer together as the density of the trees informed of their sylvan destination. Mr. Obara’s private estate. Burrowed in the outskirts of the city. A long artery of a driveway to the main house. She noted the number of other cars parked on the paver tiles before getting out. At least, she wasn’t the only expected guest. Past the front door was Mr. Obara, shaking hands and beckoning her to greet the others. Mr. Watanabe, president of a leading pharmaceutical competitor. Select members of both companies. Among them, a face which paralyzed her to recognize.

-

Still no identification of the victim. After a fruitless hour in the stale vacuum of the interrogation chamber, Kougami relented in joining Sasayama for a smoke on the balcony. Well, Sasayama smoked anyway. Cigarette dangling from his fingers, Kougami directed his concentration at the shrouded embers as if they emanated answers. They’d tracked down the mutilated woman’s occasional employer. The procurer had shrugged off nearly every question. “Eh, she showed up now and then, asking for work. Wasn’t from these parts. We get quite a few migrants, coming into town from along the coast. Port settlements. Those dirty not-so-hidden secrets like Ogishima.”

A smile of bared teeth, yellowed under the fluorescent lighting. “No Sibyl to deem you a sinner there.”

-

No one had yet directly threatened her in this job, but she’d heard from other hostesses about how different the situation could be. Especially if you were a migrant working under the radar. The morning news broadcast wouldn’t even deign to report your absence to society. Setting down an emptied glass, Tsunemori excused herself from the mingling. Discreetly slipped into a bathroom at the farthest wing of the house. Locking the door, she dialed the number three times before the weak signal connected her to a terse voice.

-

The voice was pitched so low that Kougami had trouble distinguishing the words at first. A face came to mind. Her eyes. The sheen of fear he’d last seen in them. Gesturing at Gino, Kougami turned and saw Kunizuka already working on tracing the call. Pulling up a map on his browser, he followed the serpentine paths as she confirmed the expressway, the route signs that she could remember. She was, he noted with a small smile, as keenly observant as she’d demonstrated on the night they’d first met.

-

“Miss Tsunemori, do you think you’d be able to keep an eye on Tsuruoka while at a safe distance?”

Her lips parted to respond, and the line went dead. Heart thudding more vigorously with each step, Tsunemori returned to a foyer that was much less populated than when she’d left it.

“Business session,” another hostess informed her, sipping blithely at her drink. “No amusement for a few hours while they discuss the merger. They’ve even cut off wireless to avoid anyone passing info to outsiders.”

-

By the time Kougami was quietly shutting the door of division 1’s car outside of Obara’s secluded home, the sun was out of sight and the darkness only augmented by how the tree canopies swallowed up the sky. Silently, he motioned for two enforcers to go check the communication cables. With Gino at his side, Sasayama trailing, and a dominator in hand, more for show at this point, he approached the entryway.

-

An uncommon feast of exorbitantly priced, naturally-sourced foods, and it wasn’t even supper time. While the other hostesses helped themselves to the laid out plates of fresh fruit and slices of fat-trimmed meats, Tsunemori snuck glances through the windows. Saw the faint glow down the driveway. Ordering aside the housekeeping drones before they could interfere, she moved swiftly towards the door.

-

At initial glance, Kougami almost mistook the girl who opened the door. Full-length silver dress. Dissolving below the hips into a translucent swath that whispered against peeks of thigh, the very image Sasayama had once waxed poetic of. For an absurd moment, it felt like she was welcoming them to a party. “All of the company representatives are in the conference room,” she told him, earnest eyes rimmed with a shade of darker brown.

-

Proceeding into the house, the three officers followed her through the hallways. One was the mister with glasses Tsunemori recalled glimpsing at Pink Paradise, though he gave no sign at remembering her. If anything, he seemed startled that Inspector Kougami knew her. Well, was acquainted with her. With the double doors of the meeting room in sight, Tsunemori hung back, and they took the lead.

-

Gently pressing down on the handle to test it, Kougami nodded at his colleagues, and they barged into the room. Around the circumference of the conference table, the suited attendees stared at the intruders, murmuring their bewilderment. The words “Public Safety Bureau” had barely left Gino’s mouth when one man at the far end of the table sprung to his feet, snatching up a paper knife and scraping it in placement against another man’s throat. Dominator raised and pointed, Sasayama yelled at Tsuruoka to release the hostage, but the researcher called their bluff. Pulling the other man with him, Tsuruoka backed away from the table, forcefully shouldering past the set of doors behind him.

-

Tsunemori couldn’t fully see past the inspectors’ frames, but she heard the bespectacled one announce their presence. Watched as panic blossomed, then erupted. The room's occupants shoved past her to flee while the inspectors barreled in the other direction. Her own heels retreating, she cut a path to the kitchen, intent on warning the other hostesses in the drawing room. Halted dead in her tracks as she saw the back of the man she’d fretted over reporting. The dragging feet of a hostage confirming at least part of her fears. Where were the officers? What if he escaped before they could get here? Her hand reached towards the stove, grasping a handle. She rushed at him, slamming the saucepan against his skull. Tsuruoka whirled, and her sensory nerves seemed to lag in feeling the full sting of his blow, registering it with the impact of the cold floor.

-

“Good to go, system’s back on,” Kunizuka informed him over the terminal. Empty room. Empty room. Metallic clang of some object clattering to the ground. They hastened towards the noise, and there was Tsuruoka standing behind a countertop, his free hand scrabbling for a real blade. His knees seemed to buckle with unseen force, and the hostage wrenched out of the man’s grip. Snarl to his lips, Sasayama lifted his dominator, and the gun’s muzzled jaw unlocked. Red sprayed the surrounding drawers and plastered the marbled kitchen surfaces. A shuddery, clapped-off cry. Kougami rounded the counter, knees dipping instinctively to crouch as he saw Tsunemori sprawled there, no longer silver-clad but coated in blood.

-

“Hey. Hey, look at me. It’s alright. It’s over.”

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the mangled remains of a human torso, her mouth gaping without emitting sound. Coagulated slime, revoltingly warm against the bare skin of her arms and dripping from her lashes. Flinching as a hand landed heavily, Tsunemori turned to look over her shoulder. Blue eyes under crinkled brow. Searching her face with concern.

“I thought you were going to talk to him first,” was all she could manage to say.

-

An inquiry from Gino behind him. Ah yes, there remained people to question, civilians to calm. “Gino, you go on ahead. Just give me a few minutes here.” He offered his hand to her, ignoring the warm slick on her fingers. Feeling how limply she clutched back before letting her arm fall to the side, he grabbed a towel to wipe at least her cheek clean. Roused by the contact, her fingers flitted to entangle in the cloth, finishing the task herself. Conscious of the unanswered void begot by her presumption, he cleared his throat and said, “In this case, Sibyl examined him before we did and deemed him guilty.”

-

Some of the blood on her had stained the edge of his sleeve, Tsunemori noticed as she considered his recital. “So he really was the one who killed that girl...and who displayed her corpse in the park?”

The inspector didn’t reply, his own troubled expression smoothed over as professional priorities reclaimed his attention.

“Hey, Kou, you gonna come question the guy who owns this place or what?”

-

Early morning light spilled through the overhanging foliage and greeted Kougami when he finally emerged from the residence. Peeling off his gloves as he finished loading the forensic drones into a secure case, he returned to their car and discovered another surprise curled up on the backseat. No explanation from her unconscious form, but Sasayama ambled by and said, “Oh, she - uh - didn’t want to hang around here. Understandable. So I told her we could just drop her off when we got back to the city. Least we could do, right? After her assistance?”

Weary in mind and body and by now a little bit resigned to his enforcer making promises to civilians without permission, Kougami climbed into the driver’s seat without arguing. “Alright, just this once.”

The drive was long and muted, Gino having nodded off in the seat beside him and Tsunemori slumped in the back. Battling his own drowsiness, Kougami fixed his gaze on the road in front of him for the most part. Permitting himself only a glance now and then at the rearview mirror to contemplate the girl asleep in the glass.

 

 


End file.
